


Intimate Things

by diathlu



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Coming in Panties, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Lace Panties, Light Dom/sub, Light Femdom, Married Couple, Married Life, Masturbation, Panties, Panty Kink, Panty Rubbing, Voyeurism, Walking In On Someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 17:06:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17063678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diathlu/pseuds/diathlu
Summary: Ben isn't really into feminine things, not as far as she knows.Imagining him in a pair of black, lacy panties is almost impossible.Almost.





	Intimate Things

**Author's Note:**

> I wanna thank my amazing friend AlbaStarGazer for being my beta and encouraging me as I wrote this. You're a sweetheart, I love you! <3

One thinks they know everything about a person when they get married, but in truth, it’s just the beginning. Over the last five years, Rey has learned more about Ben than she ever did during the course of their year-long relationship before they decided it was time to get hitched. Given, one year isn’t nearly as long as some people are together before tying the knot, but the couple instantly knew they shared an unparalleled connection (and it wasn’t just the _amazing_ sex).   
  
Sundays are usually Rey’s day off from the garage, coincidentally owned by her husband’s father, meaning it’s laundry day. Ben doesn’t usually leave much around, preferring to do his own, but occasionally he leaves a sock or two in the bathroom hamper. No big deal. With a collection of baskets in front of her and a small mountain of mainly her own clothing on the couch, Rey begins picking through the articles one by one, and tosses them into their designated baskets by colour order.   
  
The whites basket is always the lowest, darks are decently full (Ben has his suits dry cleaned, and Rey doesn’t wear many dark clothes aside from her jeans), and the colours are always overflowing. She goes through socks, old t-shirts, and — these are _not_ her panties. Eyes wide, she dangles the flimsy, lacy underwear from one finger, brows furrowing as she examines them. Fortunately, her mind doesn’t go straight to the idea that Ben is cheating on her because he isn’t that stupid.   
  
There’s a smear of dried cum on the front of them and when she notes their size - large, really large - she comes to the realisation that this is something she _doesn’t_ know about the man she’s married.   
  
Ben isn't really into feminine things, not as far as she knows. He’s a lawyer at a big name firm, likes his suits pressed and his shoes polished. On his days off, he likes to unwind with a beer, occasionally goes to the sports bar with Poe, used to be a football player. First thing at least five days a week, he goes on a run or uses the workout equipment set up in the garage — he’s a big, powerful man and watching him lift weights never fails to make Rey want to ride him for hours.   
  
Imagining him in a pair of black, lacy panties is almost impossible.   
  
_Almost_.   
  
The more she thinks about it, the more she likes it. Ben, hard and bulging against the sheer fabric in her hands, aroused enough to leak through. Without thinking, she lifts them to her nose and inhales the deep, musky scent left on the fabric and _oh_ , that’s nice. Rey glances at the clock, decides to rub one out since her husband won’t be home any time soon, and then once she’s done she shoves all of his clothes back into his hamper and shoves it back into the closet.   
  
That evening, the table is set with dinner the moment Ben walks through the door. She greets him by grabbing his tie and kissing him hard, to which the man quirks a brow.   
  
“I just _really_ missed you today.” Rey explains. They just barely make it to the couch after that, where her husband fucks her into the cushions while their dinner cools. By the time they eat, it’s lukewarm but no one is complaining.   
  
Although perplexed at first, Rey isn’t ashamed to admit that she’s become somewhat fascinated with the idea of Ben wearing girly panties. She wonders when he gives into this “secret” kink of his, thinks he must be extremely careful for her to have taken this long to figure it out. It would seem that even now, he manages to find ways to surprise and delight her, though she hasn’t _told_ him that she knows. Not yet.   
  
Instead, Rey bides her time. She wants to catch him in the act.   
  
Unfortunately, it’s been almost three weeks since the laundry incident and she still hasn’t managed to walk in on Ben doing anything more scandalous than watching some corny soap opera. That night, they ended up streaming an entire season of General Hospital and ordering take out. It was _nice_ , but not what Rey wanted.   
  
With Christmas nearing, anywhere that sells lingerie is stocked up on reds and greens, sexy elves and Santas. Her husband would look _exquisite_ in red, and finds herself drawn into some downtown shop that’s rife with the colour, ranging from deep scarlets to bright cherries. Rey catches herself fingering through them thoughtfully when a woman slides up behind her.   
  
“Anything I can help you find? Looking for something special?” Rey’s face flushes to match the row of panties she’s looking through, and the employee laughs it off. “Don’t worry, a lot of women end up shopping last minute looking for something special. Who are you trying to surprise?”   
  
“My husband.” Rey answered after a beat, clearing her throat and averting her gaze. “I think he’d like red.”   
  
“Alright. What size are you?” She doesn’t quite understand what Rey means. A short silence stretches between them, and she’s about to go on before she’s interrupted.   
  
“Actually, it’s _for_ him, so . . . He’s a big guy.” The employee (Sarah, Rey finally reads her name tag) is clearly shocked, eyes growing wide. How embarrassed had Ben been, going out and looking through the panty section in whatever store until he found something that would fit over his muscular hips?   
  
Sarah turns out to be incredibly helpful; she directs Rey to a specialised lingerie shop just a few miles away, where she finds the _perfect_ pair of panties for Ben. They’re just the right size — a showy cardinal colour. Lacy, with a floral pattern and a silky bow right above where his tailbone would be. While not overly risqué, they’re much nicer than the pair she’d found before, which Rey is entirely sure he got from some Walmart or some other department store.   
  
A few days later, Rose picks her up for a day away from the husbands. Finn and Poe are doing whatever they do on their days off, and Ben is at work. On their way back, Rey notices Ben’s Cadillac in the driveway, which is _odd_ because he doesn’t come home from work early often. Her heart starts racing and she urges her friend to keep driving and to drop her off down the block.   
  
“Why?” Rose scrunches up her nose, but obliges.   
  
“I have a surprise for him. Now might be the perfect time, if he doesn’t hear me coming home.” Rey can’t wipe the toothy grin from her lips as they stop at the end of the street, where she gets out and walks the rest of the way. Years spent having to be as quiet as a mouse are about to come in handy as she opts to slip through the back door rather than the noisy front.   
  
Inside, the television is on, but Ben isn’t watching. _Smart_ , she thinks, as every fibre of her being wants to yell out at her husband for wasting electricity. Not today; that would give him ample time to get dressed should he be doing anything illicit (and she hopes to god he is, wonders how often she’s come home and he’s had to pull his sweats on over his little panties because he had no time to change).   
  
The trek up the carpeted stairs feels like the longest stretch — each step she takes is perfectly calculated, painfully slow. Upon reaching their bedroom door, she finds it ajar, _of course_. Rey waits, until she hears a soft, pitiful whine that definitely belongs to her husband. She chooses to reveal herself at that moment, pushing inside and _there he is_ , kneeling in the middle of their bed, naked save for those very same pair of black panties that she’d found weeks ago.   
  
Shock and shame explode across Ben’s face, and he swiftly yanks their colourful duvet up to cover himself, sweat-slick chest heaving. He likely wasn’t far off from orgasm.   
  
“Fuck!” He spits out, voice shaky and broken in the way it oft gets when he’s fucking into her.   
  
At first, a grin splits across Rey’s face, but the man doesn’t seem to register her delight as he averts his gaze, tries looking anywhere but her face. It’s then that her expression falters and softens, noting the subtle tremble of his jaw, the way his bottom lip juts out.   
  
“It’s not — look, I’m sorry. I can explain. I just, you know . . .” Any excuse he makes won’t tell her anything that she’s not already seeing, but excuses aren’t what Rey is looking for. Her poor husband looks utterly crestfallen, as if caught doing something far _worse_ than cheating on her. Or, wearing a pair of panties and palming himself through them. Which is exactly the case.   
  
A ragged breath escapes him, and Rey seems to snap back into reality. Ben is a sensitive man, whether he likes to admit it or not (shockingly, he doesn’t). This is hardly the first time she’s seen him close to tears, and it makes her chest tighten painfully. Drawn forward, she makes for the bed, hates the way he flinches when she climbs up and reaches out.   
  
“Hey, it’s just me.” Rey tries to remind him, fingers landing upon his temple before pushing through his thick hair. “No need to explain, yeah?” A smile is offered then, and his apprehensive eyes flicker up to meet her own heated pair. Ben tilts his head into her touch then, letting out a soft, unsure sound.   
  
“I’m sorry.” He apologises again, and his wife vehemently shakes her head in response.   
  
“No, I should be apologising, I uh — well, I found your panties while doing the laundry a few weeks ago.” Ben looks petrified, but before he can interject, she rambles on. “I was waiting for this to happen . . . I guess you could say I wanted to catch you.” Though she hadn’t expected him to react so negatively, as if she’d turn him away for something so silly. Far worse things can come from a pair of unfamiliar panties; her mind _could_ have gone straight to the assumption that he was being unfaithful, but she knows better than that, she knows  _ him _ .   
  
Rey begins to remove the blanket, then, the rustling of sheets and their breathing the only sounds in the room as she peels them from his strong legs. At this point, his cock has mostly flagged, but it still looks obscene curled up against the front of his sheer underwear. It strains against the flimsy fabric, making for a pretty bulge. She licks her lips.   
  
“I got you something.” Rey shuffles off the bed and goes for her dresser, opening it up and digging through until she produces a perfectly innocent box wrapped in snowman patterned Christmas paper. “I was going to wait, but. Yeah.” Now seems like the perfect time, especially with Ben in such a fragile state, his eyes still weary, guarded. He needs to know that she’s okay with this, that his harmless kink is something she’s more than willing to indulge him in.   
  
Back in bed, she holds out the gift. With shaking hands, her husband takes is and hesitates to open it up until she urges him on. Now she’ll have to find him another last minute gift, but it’s all worth it to see the way his already red cheeks darken when he pulls off the lid and sees the folded, red cloth.   
  
“You — really?” Ben breathes out, reaching to smooth his fingers over the fabric. Rey loves the way she can see him shudder.   
  
“I thought you deserved a nicer pair.” She leans in closer, pressing a chaste kiss to the sharp edge of her husband’s jaw. “So why don’t you try them on for me? I’m sure you’ll look pretty, love.” The way she _purrs_ causes the man to sputter before kicking into action.   
  
Watching Ben rip off his old pair of panties and slide on the new ones is hardly sexy; he’s all awkward, clumsy hands. Over-zealous and still a little unsure. It’s all Rey can do to stifle a giggle and retain her gentle smile, knowing that he’s still raw. Once he’s tucked his half-hard cock into the front, he cautiously kneels back on the bed.   
  
“Do you, ah, do you like them?” He asks, voice quiet.   
  
“You’re beautiful.” Rey feels breathless, as she looks him over, big and broad and sculpted like a Greek god. Some days, she still wakes up and finds herself wondering why such a perfect man would want to marry a plain girl like her. Then he looks at her as if she’s the centre of his universe (which _she is_ , he’s insisted more than once) and it’s like all of her insecurities crumble away. She only hopes that her reassurances have the same effect on Ben, who’s at least leaning towards her now, like a cat hungry for attention.   
  
How can she not indulge him? He’s been so good for her, slipping into his panties and coming back to bed, erect and tentatively eager.   
  
Rey reaches for the waistband and curls her finger underneath, testing the tightness of the garment. A pleased hum escapes her lips, it appears that she’s estimated the right size. The panties aren’t tailored for men, but that’s the appeal; it should look wrong, but on her husband, it looks so right. His cock is beginning to leak against the lace, tucked to the side where it twitches against the crease of his hip.   
  
“I want you to touch yourself for me. Do what you do when I’m not here.” The request surprises Ben. Rey has watched him jerk off before, but it’s usually over her face or her breasts. “It’s okay. I want to watch.” It’s what he needs to relax, shoulders losing some of their tenseness as he reaches between his legs. Those hazel eyes remain on him (they’d be unblinking, if only that were possible); he looks ethereal in the dim light of their room, black-out curtains drawn mostly shut for the sake of privacy.   
  
Ben begins to paw at himself, still encased within scarlet lace as he gently rocks his hips forward. As often as his wife has imagined this moment by now, the images her mind concocted are nothing compared to seeing the real thing. Rey doesn’t make a move, stays still and cross-legged as the man lets out a soft moan.   
  
“I’m going to ruin them.” He pants out, teeth digging into his bottom lip, but doesn’t stop rubbing.   
  
“It’s okay. Go ahead.” Rey encourages, and so he presses his palm against himself a little harder, hips rutting jerkily.   
  
“I can come?” Ben _wants_ her permission, he’s desperate for it, and a warm, pleased feeling curls up in Rey’s chest at the notion.   
  
“You can come, love. Whenever you’re ready.” After she says this, it doesn’t take very long. The man whimpers as he presses his thumb against his leaking slit, the damp  fabric there slipping and sliding over his sensitive glands, eyes fluttering shut. He looks so _pretty_ (she knew he would, said he does) when he tips his head back and comes undone with a shuddering moan, unlike anything Rey has heard before.   
  
When it’s over, Ben slumps forward and Rey reaches out to help him lay down. There’s a persistent throbbing between her legs, but she ignores it as she spoons up behind her husband, her small body curled around his. She hooks her chin atop his head, smooths one hand down his side soothingly.   
  
“Thank you.” Ben breathes out after a few moments, shifting so that she’s still holding him, but he can turn around in her arms and press a line of kittenish kisses along her neck and jaw and cheek. “Thank you so much.” He repeats, content to nuzzle into the crook of her neck.   
  
“You don’t have to hide these things from me. I love you.” Rey assures him, a hand sliding up his back and into his hair, lazily combing her fingers through it. “But you did ruin your Christmas present.” To which Ben snorts.   
  
“You can always buy me more.” He offers almost shyly.   
  
“Maybe I will.” Rey grins, peppering the top of his head with kiss after kiss. Next time, she’ll have him get her off before he’s allowed to come, but for now, she lets Ben sag in her arms, exhausted after working himself up so much. Later, she’ll help him dress and they’ll order pizza. Maybe binge more of those awful soaps for the hell of it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Twitter @nsfwars!


End file.
